


Caesura: Gortoz A Ran-J’Attends

by Crash (theyllek)



Series: Caesura [1]
Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 10:51:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theyllek/pseuds/Crash
Summary: The aftermath of a horrible mission; Jack’s side.





	Caesura: Gortoz A Ran-J’Attends

* * *

  

“Only the dead have seen the end of war” ~ Plato

 

* * *

 

Chris groaned, reaching for his watch on the nightstand. He squinted trying to make out what the tiny hands told him. Giving up he turned on the lamp and tried again.

“0223” Chris and threw his watch back on the night stand and tried to get out of bed, the tangle of sheets and blankets hampering his efforts. Finally freed he resisted the urge to crawl back into their warmth.

“It’s warm here this time of year my ass.” he muttered opening the door to his room, shivering as a cold breeze came up the stairs and wrapped itself around his bare legs.

Making his way down the hall he checked in the other two bedrooms. The first one was empty and Daniel was asleep in the second one confirming Chris’ initial suspicion that Jack was behind the loud music currently flooding the cabin.

Still dressed in only his boxers and shirt he went to sleep in he continued down the hall stopping just short of the stairs. Turning, he leaned on the railing that over looked the living room. Muted light from one of the lamps in the room gave the room an eerie feel. He was able to make out Jack, slouched in the middle of the couch, head tossed back. Jack’s right leg was resting on the coffee table and his right hand cradled a glass that rested on his thigh. His left hand danced lightly in the air in time to the music.

The cabin faded into silence as the song ended and Chris watched as Jack took a long sip from his glass. Leaning forward, Jack picked up the stereo remote and the cabin was filled with music once again.

“Please tell me that’s not alcohol in that glass…Janet’d kill me.” Chris said to himself as Jack took another drink.

Taking a step back Chris leaned forward, resting his head on the wood rail and closed his eyes. Janet had called him asking for his help after SG1 returned battered and bruised and not talking any more then necessary.

 

* * *

 

_“They haven’t spoken very much without being prompted to.” Janet explained to Chris as they sat in her office._

_“What happened?” He asked, studying the contents of his mug before taking a drink._

_Janet took a deep breath before she began, “They went back to P13-1657. It’s a planet much like our own developmentally wise. There were two groups of people there, the Bittream and the Hoonieyicchts. The Stargate sat in between the two groups. SG1 happened to run into the Bittream first and were beginning to start trade negotiations. The Bittream had refused to agree to anything without getting the Hoonieyicchts involved. Until this week both groups had existed peacefully. The Bittream told the Hoonieyicchts about the negotiations and asked for their involvement. The Hoonieyicchts agreed and negotiations were planned to have started this week.”_

_“So what happened? Did someone have a change of heart?”_

_“In a way.” Janet nodded, “From what we have been able to understand a rebel faction of the Hoonieyicchts seized power. They attacked the Bittream claiming that they were bringing the ‘false gods’ back to the planet. When SG1 arrived on P13-1657 this morning most of the Bittream city was in ruins. The rebel Hoonieyicchts had used some type of chemical weapon in their attacks and killed most of the Bittreams. When SG1 was searching the city for survivors they ran across a squad of Hoonieyicchts. They were taken prisoner and tortured and then dumped at the Gate. With the exception of Teal’c they all have identical knife wounds on their abdomens. Nearest we can figure out is that the Hoonieyicchts were looking for larval pouches.”  
_

_“But Teal’c has a larval pouch.” Chris pointed out. “What happened to him?”_

_“Teal’c was forced to watch and occasionally take part in the torture of the others. He was severally injured and so was his symbiote.” Janet held her hands aloft. “I can’t tell you much else. Teal’c’s left to spend time with Master Bra’tac and Sam, Daniel and the Colonel aren’t talking.”_

 

* * *

 

Rubbing a hand across his forehead, Chris opened his eyes. He could still see the soulless looks that he got from the team when he first saw them in the infirmary after speaking with Janet. Sam had gone to be with her father and Teal’c to see Master Bra’tac, leaving Jack and Daniel on Earth with Chris stuck trying to deal with the aftermath.

 

* * *

 

_“You’re worse than they say!” Chris announced cheerfully, waltzing into Daniel’s office.  
_

_Daniel looked up from the papers on his desk and gave Chris nasty look._

_“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Janet that you’re in your lab and not in your quarters.” Chris plonked himself down on a stool.  
_

_“What do you want?!” Daniel ground out not bothering to look at the other man._

_“I came to tell you to pack your bags. You are coming with me!”  
_

_“Why?”_

_“Janet is releasing Jack today and General Hammond has handed over the keys to his cabin and ordered the two of you to come with me. By the way we’re not to come back for two weeks.” Chris took a deep breath after his rushed words and smiled disarmingly.  
_

_“But…” Daniel started to protest_

_“Yes I know you are not military but it doesn’t matter in this case. And I also know that Janet wants you to stay close to the infirmary. But I have convinced her that I’ve had enough medical training that I could handle some stitches, bruises and strains.”  
_

_Chris stared at Daniel waiting for the counter attack. The entire thing was Janet and Hammond’s idea. They had teamed up coming up with the idea after Jacob and Sam had left and Teal’c departed to visit Bra’tac. SG-1’s last mission had affected them all deeply and none of them dealing were with it At least in a good way. He grinned when Daniel gave a defeated sigh dropping his pencil on to the worktop._

_Slapping his hands down, Chris rose to his feet and snagged a coffee mug. He inspected the inside carefully before filling it. “Go home pack your bags. We leave tomorrow morning. Hammond’s arranged a charter flight.” He took a sip of the hot liquid and gave an appreciative smile before looking at his watch. “Excuse me but I must be off. I promised Janet that I’d save the infirmary from the likes of Jack.” He turned to leave, the half full mug still in hand, “Good coffee by the way. Pack some why don’t you?”_

 

* * *

 

_Chris walked down the hall to the main entrance of the infirmary. He could hear Jack bellowing about something. While it was an improvement over the last two days of silence from the man it wasn’t exactly welcomed. Walking inside he saw one of the nurses trying to change the bandage on the side of Jack’s face and Jack, glaring in an annoyed fashion, repeatedly pulling his head away form her. Chris gave the nurse brownie points for not letting the colonel’s belligerent behavior ruffle her.  
_

_“Jack would you shut the hell up! No one gives a shit!” Chris yelled tired of seeing his friend acting like an ass. “God! You sound like Elton John on drugs!”_

_Jack’s jaw snapped shut in shock and the nurse took the opportunity to grab his chin and finish tending to the wound.  
_

_Chris leaned against the wall waiting for her to finish with what she was doing. He spied Janet out of the corner of his eye, laughing behind her hand. Finished, the nurse packed her equipment up and excused herself, smiling at Chris as she passed._

_“You know you could have been done an hour ago if you’d stopped acting like a four year old.” Chris pushed himself off the wall and went over to his friend’s side.  
_

_“Very cliché” Jack growled in his direction._

_“I only said the cliché, you’re acting it. Tell me which is worse?”  
_

_“Shut up.” Jack answered. “What do you want anyways?”_

_“I have come to tell you that I am sparing the infirmary from you for two weeks. You my friend are coming with me!”  
_

_“Sorry no can do. Doc won’t let me out of her sights.” Jack explained with a satisfied smirk on his face._

_“Not this time Colonel.” Janet came around the corner right on cue. “I’ve handed your care off to Dr. Jeppeson here. I’m confident that you will be just fine.”  
_

_“Don’t I get a say in this?” Jack asked upset that he hadn’t even been consulted._

_“Nope, sorry Colonel not this time. General Hammond’s orders”  
_

_“He’s not even a medical doctor!”_

_“Ah my good friend, but you forget” Chris straightened in his chair. “I am to. I may not have MD after my name but I do have D.O.”  
_

_“Drastically Obtuse?” Jack sneered, upset that they couldn’t figure out that he just wanted to be left alone_

_“Doctor of Osteopathy”  
_

_Jack crossed his arms giving both of them a seething look._

_“Look at it this way, you get to get out of the infirmary today and not in four days. Your stitches look good; your knee will be fine with some rest and PT. I’ve already briefed Dr. Jeppeson on your condition and feel confident that you will be perfectly fine.” Janet signed the bottom of Jack’s chart and handed it to Chris.  
_

_“Have a good trip Colonel. I’ll see you in two weeks.” She patted his ankle on her way out._

_“Cheer up you old bugger!” Chris pulled out his best Oxford accent “Remember what Monty Python says, ‘Always look on the bright side of life.’”_

_“I hate you, you know.” Jack muttered staring intently at his sock encased foot. “I really, really do”  
_

_“I know. I’ll be back to get you in a few hours.”_

 

* * *

 

Chris stood there observing Jack until his body began to protest the lack of movement. He walked back down the hall to see if Daniel had woken up yet only to find the archeologist dead to the world.

 “Lucky bastard.” He murmured, squinting at the green illuminated numbers of the bedside clock.

 0345.

The song started up again and Chris pulled back shutting Daniel’s door quietly. Chris turned around and entered the bathroom, cursing as the coldness of the tile seeped through his socks. Quickly taking care of his needs he left and headed for the stairs. Once downstairs he padded across the foyer and plopped himself down on the love seat opposite Jack.

Jack didn’t even react to Chris’ arrival. He just sat there calmly left hand still dancing in time to the music and occasionally sipping his drink. Chris spotted a bottle of Jack Daniels on the floor next to the coffee table. It was a little less than half empty and Chris took it as a good sign that he got there before the entire contents were gone. 

The music faded away and Jack’s hand dropped to his lap. He was so still that after awhile Chris began to wonder if he had fallen asleep. Jack dispelled the illusion when he stood to pick up the bottle, refilling his glass. He resumed his seat and the two men sat silently letting the haunting tones of the song wash over them.

 

_Gortozet 'm eus_

_gortozet pell_

_E skeud teñval tourioù gell_

_E skeud teñval an tourioù glav_

_C'hwi am gwelo ' c'hortoz atav._

 

It sounded like French but Chris wasn’t sure. However, he knew that Jack would know. Getting up he stepped over the coffee table and took a seat on the couch beside his friend.

“What’s it say?” He nudged Jack with his left arm and Jack passed him the bottle of whiskey.

“Gortozet 'm eus gortozet pell E skeud teñval tourioù gell E skeud teñval an tourioù glav C'hwi am gwelo ' c'hortoz atav.” The words slipped easily from Jack’s lips. “I was waiting, waiting for a long time; In the dark shadow of grey towers; In the dark shadow of rain towers; You will see me waiting forever.” Jack snorted, downing the rest of his whiskey and reached for the bottle again.

The moment of silence as the two men sipped their drinks was broken suddenly.

“I killed her. It felt like the right thing to do. I couldn’t just... It..it..I...just” Jack shook his head, opening and closing his mouth trying to get the words to come out.

“What happened Jack?” Chris asked keeping his voice low and head down.

“We were in the Bittream City. Bodies everywhere. You could hardly walk. They were burying the dead in mass graves. More than I’ve ever seen.” Jack swallowed more whiskey and refilled his glass again, his hand shaking. “They were the lucky ones. At least they didn’t know what hit them. There were a couple of people still alive, though not for much longer.”

A shiver coursed its way up Chris’ spine as Jack spoke.

“I sent the others outside. I..I..I didn’t… They didn’t need to see it.” Jack paused, staring down into his glass. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, more hesitant. “We found her in one of the homes. She was crying so hard she couldn’t get enough air. Carter wanted to take her back to Doc. I’ve seen this stuff before nerve gas…there was nothing Doc could’ve done.”

Jack stopped talking and Chris looked over, surprised to see tears trickling down his friend’s face.

“I’ve killed before but never…I…I. Killed. Her.” Jack drew in several ragged breaths

“Per istam sanctam unctionem, indulgeat tibi Dominus quidquid deliquisti, Amen.” Jack spoke softly.

 “What does that mean?”

 “Through this holy unction may the Lord pardon thee whatever sins or faults thou hast committed.” Jack sniffed. “I didn’t know what else to do, the Bittreams were very religious. Teal’c came to tell me that the Honeysticks were coming but it was too late. Some had already come in the back of the house.”

“And?” Chris nudged him again.

“They got upset when they saw Teal’c.  Daniel tried to talk to them but they couldn’t understand each other.”

They sat silent for a while, the song still repeating itself.

“The song?"

“I see her. Everywhere she’s there waiting for me.”

“See who?”

“The woman. She keeps saying Gortozet 'm eus,’ ‘I was waiting.’”

“Does she tell you what she was waiting for?”

“Me.” Jack took a swig of Jack Daniels. “She was waiting for me to come and kill her. She calls me her savior for doing so. She calls me a savior for snapping her neck.” Jack was on his feet and pacing.

“She calls you a savior because you ended her pain.” Chris offered calmly, despite the fact that his stomach knotted at the thought.

“That doesn’t change anything. I murdered her. She wasn’t a threat to me or to my team. Murder is murder no matter what the circumstance.” He made an attempt to push himself to his feet.

“Jack, you and I both know that that is not true.” Chris stood up and moved in front of Jack, preventing him from moving. “Look at me Jack. What you did was NOT murder!”

Giving up his struggle to get to his feet, tears still seeping from his eyes, he met Chris’ gaze. “She begged for mercy.”

“And you granted her that.” Chris took a half step forward enveloping Jack in a hug.

“I killed her.” Jack said returning the hug.

“Yes you did. But you didn’t murder her.” Chris felt Jack sway slightly. “You saved her from suffering. You know that suffering is far worse than death. You’ve been there and you spared her that.”

Pulling back Chris looked his friend in the face. The tears were gone but he could see that Jack’s eyes were bloodshot and swollen. “You’re drunk.”

“Am not” Jack grunted in response as Chris led him to sit back on the couch.

“I’d beg to differ. No more whiskey for you.” Chris took the bottle from the table where it had been put last and secured the lid.

“Was good whiskey.”

“Yes it was and it served its purpose but I think you’ve had enough for a while.” Chris walked into the kitchen and came back out with a glass of water.

“Drink.” He commanded sitting down next to the other man.

“All of it.” he added when Jack tried to set the glass down after drinking half

Jack shot Chris a dirty look but finished the rest of the water, turning the glass upside down when done to prove it.

“Does he really sleep this soundly?’ Chris asked pointing upstairs.

“Oh Yeah” Jack snorted. Picking up the stereo remote he restarted the track.

“By the way, what’s the name of this song?”

“Gortoz A Ran-J’Attends. I Was Waiting”

Chris tossed an arm over Jack’s shoulders, and they sat silently once again as the music filled the room. When the song didn’t start over, Chris leaned forward far enough to get a good look at his friend. Jack was crying again, tears coursing down his cheeks to join the moisture from his nose, ignored until, with a violent gesture, he wiped his sleeve across his face. There was silence, but Chris could feel the shudders that were flowing though his body. Pulling him into another hug Chris offered what little comfort he could. Jack clung to him as the shudders worsened. A harsh sob escaped racking his body, opening the floodgates for more. Wordlessly, Chris sat rubbing Jack’s back, letting him hang on as long as he needed.

Finally, Jack’s sobs slowly turned into violent hiccups. Moving away from Chris, he wrapped both arms around his already sore abdomen as the spasms grew in intensity. The only warning Chris had was a weak groan from Jack before he vomited painfully on to the floor.

Obviously embarrassed over what had just transpired, Jack started to get even more upset. Again he swiped at his eyes and nose with one arm, the other still holding his tender stomach. Jack gasped desperately for air. Chris returned from gathering some towels and pressed a cool cloth to the back of Jack’s neck. Throwing a towel over the mess on the floor, he sat down again resting a hand on Jack’s back rubbing soothingly.

“C’mon, let’s get you upstairs.” Chris urged Jack to his feet. Gripping him beneath his arms he led him awkwardly up the stairs to his room.

“I’m sorry.” Jack sounded somewhat sober as Chris sat him down on the edge of his bed.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Chris replied, helping Jack off with his grubby shirt before disappearing into the bathroom to get another washcloth.

“I made a mess. I have to clean it up.” Jack started to rise only to be pushed back down.

“It’s okay Jack really. Here,” Chris handed the pale man the wet washcloth. “Wash up there and lay down. It’s been a long night and you need to get some sleep. And as much as a clichéd as is, maybe you will feel better after you sleep off some of that good whiskey.”

“Chris,” Jack handed the cloth back and moved to lie down closing his eyes. “Am I crazy?”

“No Jack, you’re human.” Chris pulled the covers over his friend. “Now sleep. Doctor’s orders.”

“What, no bedtime story?” Jack cracked an eye open “No rock myself to sleep?”

“I think we’ve had enough stories for tonight. Oh and ‘Rock Myself to Sleep’ was a song not a story. And no, I will not sing it for you.”

Chris stayed with him until he was sure Jack was asleep before slipping out closing the door quietly behind him. Making a quick trip to his room for fresh clothes to take down stairs, he met up with Daniel in the hallway. 

“Jack okay?” Daniel yawned coming out of the bathroom.

“Yeah he’ll be fine. He just had a bit much to drink. I’ve put him to bed.”

“Okay I’m gonna go back to bed. I just had to pee.” Another yawn escaped as Daniel raked a hand through his hair. “You sure Jack will be okay? It wasn’t a good mission. Lotsa shit. Bad shit.”

“I know Daniel,” He patted the tired man on the shoulder. “It’ll take time but things will be okay again. Jack’s sleeping which is what I suggest you go do.”

Daniel stared searchingly at Chris.

“We can talk about it in the morning. Go back to bed.” Chris told the archeologist steering him in the direction of his open door.  

“Mmmkay my bed is calling.” Daniel went back into his room shutting the door behind him.

Going back downstairs, Chris put his change of clothes in the bathroom and couldn’t help but laugh slightly at Daniel. “His bed was calling him.” His laughter died down as he trekked in to the living room, the putrid smell making him breathe through his mouth.

“You know Jack I was never a fan of vomit…mine or anyone else’s.”

Chris talked to himself as he cleaned up the mess on the living room floor, using towels he had brought with him from the bathroom. Thankfully the cabin had hard wood and tiled floors, which made cleaning up much easier. In the laundry room he set the washer to hot water and two rinse cycles before retrieving the soiled towels.

He braced his hands against the washer as it filled. Eyes shut Chris put himself in Jack’s place, replaying the mission in his head from what little he knew. Images came, flashing brightly behind his closed lids. Everything. He saw everything in his head from the time they exited the gate to the arrival of the Hoonieyicchts soldiers. The Bittream city, the dead littering the streets. Along with the sights came the wretched smell and he could hear the cries from the woman the team had found. He was in Jack’s shoes as he sent the rest of SG1 from the hut. He felt the woman’s slender neck in his hands as he ended her painful existence.

The washer began to agitate and Chris’ eyes flew open.

“Oh God” He put a hand to his mouth and bolted to the bathroom.

Finished Chris put the lid down on the toilet and flushed it. He sat there for a while resting his head on his crossed arms, dragging in gulps of air. When his bones painfully protested his position on the cold tile floor he stood and turned on the shower. Stripping down he threw his clothes into the hamper and stepped into the near scalding spray.

Wasting no time he soaped up and rinsed, scrubbing the blood and death from his skin. He repeated the same steps until the soap bottle slipped from his fingers to clatter loudly on the shower floor. He was trembling and he thrust his arms out to push against the wall beneath the showerhead. It was his turn to cry. Water pounded on to his skull, running down into his eyes and down his face mingling with the tears that were running as well.

Worn out Chris turned off the now cold water and reached blindly for a towel. Not finding one he shook himself, cursing when his head started to throb. Once out he grabbed a towel from the cabinet and dried off before changing.

War. He’d experienced it. All aspects of it and it didn’t change a thing. Yes war sucked but it wasn’t always avoidable. Chris had done things that he wasn’t particularly proud of and was still haunted by them. He remembered a passage he’d read once.

“War is hell, but that’s not the half of it, because war is also mystery and terror and adventure and courage and discovery and holiness and pity and despair and longing and love. War is nasty; war is fun. War is thrilling; war is drudgery. War makes you a man; war makes you dead.” 

Entering the dining room he took a scented candle and a lighter from the cabinet and placed it on the coffee table in the living room. Lighting it he leaned back with remote in hand flipping through the tracks on the CD until he came across the one that Jack had been playing.

“Let's give a listen to your song one more time my friend. Try and figure out why you latched on to it.”

“Music hath charms to soothe a savage breast.” Chris spoke barely above a whisper. The song’s beautifully haunting tones were oddly soothing. The long drawn out lyrics wormed their way under his skin, settling into his bones. He’d never be able to explain it but Chris felt as though he understood everything as the song came to an end.

0548\. The sun would be rising soon. Turning the stereo off, he dropped the remote back onto the coffee table and blew out the candle before heading for the stairs. His bed was calling him now and he was sure that the day would be packed full of more battles to be fought. He felt he had as many questions as answers for Jack at this point but at least now he had a starting point; a common place to begin. It was music and a song so haunting it took up residence in your bones.

**Author's Note:**

> The quoted passage is from “How To Tell a True War Story” by Tim O’Brien. A wonderfully talented writer that I recommend to all. It's not easy stuff to read, but it's worth.
> 
> The song is “Gortoz A Ran-J'Attends - Danez Prigent & Lisa Gerrard.” from the Blackhawk Down Original Soundtrack


End file.
